Sorrow
by OnemoreSquall
Summary: Sorrow ruins a life and begins one anew....(kinda violent with swearing, new characters, a generation after the game, re-uploaded, please read)
1. The Killing Fields

Dark clouds hung dead in the sky, the calm before the storm lying heavily across the ominous landscape. In   
the distance thrunder cracked as brilliant spears stabbed through the clouds. The rain was already sweeping across   
the grassy plains, matting down grass and flowers and would soon be sending both beasts and men scattering, looking   
for refuge. Thick, heavy drops that fall like bodies in battle, their water spilling out like blood as they hit the   
hard ground. The wind was begining to whip faster, moving the forbidding rain ever closer. The two figures stood   
silently across from each other, coiled like serpents waiting to strike as the squall slowly struck them. One of   
them was a slender, middle height man, wearing a long black coat, dark pants, his hair was long, and hung down   
across his eyes, just like his mentor and heroes hair does.He held his deadly sharp gunblade lightly in one hand,  
exactly as Headmaster Squall had shown him.   
  
His eyes were like fire, fueled by hate, anger and fear. The fuel of this consuming fire stood a few feet   
from him, staring intently at him, trying to fathom what was happening. Half a foot taller and 100 pounds heavier,   
the other was a bear of a man, he stood shirtless, wearing only a pair of blue SeeD candidate pants. He ran his   
gloved hands over his shaved head, wiping of the lighter drops of rain that had already gotten this far. His eyes   
were fixed on the other man's, but he was not so intent, not so...evil.  
  
"I don't think this is a great idea, Sorrow. Its gonne be raining pretty hard soon, we don't want anyone to  
get hurt,"The big man said, looking concernedly at the storm front"We the fire cavern tommorow, and the exam after   
that."  
  
"Shut up and fight, chicken wuss!"Sorrow hissed.  
  
"I don't think..." but it was too late, the quicker man was already upon him, gunblade swinging upwards. It   
caught the large man on the chin causing blood to spray off and onto his opponents face. The big man bellowed in   
pain, clutching his wound with one hand, and holding his other hand out, a feeble attempt to stop his opponent.  
  
But Sorrow wouldn't have it. Consumed by emotion, emotions that he harboured since the other man had shown   
up last year, through all their training together, seeing the other man pass the tests he failed, get the chances he  
missed, getting the girl he had been watching since she arrived, for everything wrong he had done. It gripped his   
arms, tightened his fingers now whiteknuckled grip on his gunblade.Sorrow's legs bolted up as he jumped into the air  
and sailed towards his opponent, he swung the blade down at the outstrechted hand, chopping throught flesh, through   
hot blood,muscles and bone. As if in a trance, Sorrow's finger tightened on the trigger, something never allowed in   
training, and he watched with distance interest as the power surged down through the blade and peak as it contacted   
flesh, completing the wound,severing the hand. Hot blood fueled his fire more, he could see it pouring from the hand  
, it was on him, in him, in his mind in his body, he became that terrible blood. He flowed towards the ground and   
rolled, righting himself into a crouch, and ready for the next blow. He had no time to react. The big man was in a   
frenzy. Fueled not by hate, but by hurt, the he flung himself at the smaller man, an uncontrolled wave of pain to   
accompany the blood. He brushed the gunblade aside with a powerful stroke of his remaining hand. He screamed,   
screamed for a man who he had only ever tried to befreind, the only one at Garden who understand what it was like   
to know burning rage, to know what it is to feel able to kill. The bear crashed onto Sorrow, knocking the wind out   
of him, pinning him under its immense size. It drove its head into Sorrows face, feeling with pleasure as bone   
cracked and blood was drawn. it got up on its knees and swatted at Sorrow's broken head, raking it with a large paw.  
It heard that man scream and felt the rush of power as Sorrow began a spell. But the Bear wouldn't have it. He drove  
the stump of his severed hand into Sorrows skull, feeling secondhand as the skin was pulled back off the bone, and   
as the cracked bone was driven into Sorrow. And feeling while sorrow stopped kicking, stopped the spell and stopped  
living.   
  
The Bear raised himself triumpantly to the stormy sky, feeling as his muscles flex as he roared in most   
horrible victory. 


	2. The Storm

The Bear woke up a day later, in the unfamiliar scene of the Garden Infirmary. It smelled like a hospital so clean, free of blood, and pain. There was a pain in his chest and his hand felt numb, and he couldn't move his jaw. The whiteness of the room was stifling, there were no visible bounds to the small room, nothing real in the vastness , nothing but himself and he was hardly more. He thought for a moment and realised that there were no windows, he must be in the security chamber. What had happened? Where was Sorrow? He slowly stirred, and tried to move his head to look around, but pain gripped him tightly to the harsh, foreign bed. He fought it and struggled to raise his head, but it was a waste there was nothing in the room, not even a small table, like the ones in every fucking room The Bear had ever been in. There was nothing to do but sleep. And so the Bear slept.  
  
************************************************  
  
"WHAT!?!?" Instructor Zell Dincht cried."WHAT!?!?"  
  
"Sorrow was killed while training with one of your students yesterday..."The serious looking SeeD told him bluntly.   
  
Zell collapsed into the chair at the front of his class, not believing what he was hearing. Sorrow was one of his better students, a lot like Seifer in many ways, but not so extreme. He arrived 4 years ago, and had always done well, and loved to spar. He hero worshipped Squall, and had chosen a gunblade when it had come time to pick a specialty. He was going to be a great SeeD, maybe even officer, but never instructor, he would hate helping others learn. He was a little arrogant, maybe needing to be taken down a few pegs, but not death, he was barely 17, Zell had lived twice that long, and still he felt there was more to life.  
  
"Was it The Bear?"  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
Life drained from Zell, he wanted to curl up and cry. The Bear was the pride of his class, of the student body, a great guy all around, funny guy , lots of freinds, a nice girl, miles ahead of anyone but Sorrow in his military training, he even trained almost exclusively with Zell too, it was too much to stand. The perfect student, the best that Garden had seen since Squall was still a student. A killer. Wasn't Zell one too? He had fought the Sorceress along with all the others. Fought off the G-Army at every turn. And he wasn't much older either. But this was different, somehow. Student against student.  
  
"leave, now."Zell didn't know what to think.  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
****************************************************  
  
Squall stared coldly at the monitor, watching The Bear as he lay still on the bed. This was the first time since Cid left 7 years back that anything even remotely this serious had happened. He felt lost, and confused. He like he was back at the beginning, being told that he was to command the Garden against the Sorceress. He knew this fear that came from responsibility; responsibility and failure. He was almost paralysed by the closeness of this tragedy. He knew what the guys felt like, he and Seifer were the same. Squall ran a gloved finger over the fading scar that still marred his face.   
  
"Open the Door" He said to the two guards standing beside the door as he strode purposefully across the room to the security cell.  
  
Squall carried his Lionheart in its scabbard at his side.   
  
"Bear, tell me what happened, how did you do this?"  
  
"I...don't...know."  
  
A gunblade was drawn, come on, we just need a bit more work, thunder, rain wind, hatred, pain suffering blood sweet blood suffering helplessness disconnection uninhibited bloodlust veangance over victory an ending like  
perfectionindestructiondarknessturnedtolightasthebeastinsideisreleasedbringingdeathuponthosewhoinvokeditswrath...  
It blurred together in his mind. He mind raced and his heart popped, he felt it comgin back to him, like rain pounding on his back as he pulled his bone, his body from his dead peer. The wind whipped the stinging rain into his face and wounds burning a broken body with its force. He felt the shackles come undone from his hands and feet, and he stood up and roared. It was strong, it was his essence. His head was swimming, both then and now, and Squall was looking at him worriedly, but Sorrow had a blank stare where his eye wasn't destroyed. He felt his chest grow warm with water, no, not water, but blood, his blood, the blood that was all around him, on him, in him. His blood was life, as Sorrow had found out. Then black, and now...  
  
"He...Attacked me...cut me...then cut off my hand...(was that right? his hand was still attached, it felt cold though, cold a numb, like the rest of him)and something in me snapped (Can I escape blame by placing it on myself?) then I lashed out and then ...I... ... crushed his head... ... ... and stabbed him."  
  
Squall was silent. he knew nothing else. He believed the Bear, and knew he would never go out of his way too cause pain to anything. But it didn't change the fact that somebody was dead, and the blood was on his hands. Squall felt like screaming, tearing all his hair out. He couldn't help the Bear, at all, though he wanted to, he had to uphold justice, and didn't know how to deal with it.  
  
"Thanks, Bear."   
  
Squall didn't listen to the Bears quiet calls as he strode out. The door was closed and locked behind him, closing him off from the suffering boy, free from having to face him. He left the infirmary, and quickly strode into action. His mind began to work harder, he went over punishments. Most seemed too severe, far too severe, it was self defense after all, and he wouldn't put the attack over Sorrow. Squall had a place in his heart for Sorrow, they had shared similar childhoods, and knew what each other had gone through, He found it easy to guide Sorrow through learning to use the gunblade, so far, Sorrow was the nly one he had trusted to teach the deadly weapon to, a trust which was destroyed, but its memory kept Squall from believing the Bear completely. Between the truth and the trust lay the doubt, and it was from within the doubt that the laws of man came. Squall needed a more obective judgement. Maybe it was time to see Dr. Cid.  



	3. Silent Advice

Chapter 3: Silent Advice  
  
The wind swept sharp across the high plateau, a cold northern wind blowing from far beyond the ocean, it chilled the  
length of the land, and came to rest on the mountain, as if caught by the vast clouds that hang perpetually in the   
sky. The wind never abates, and left little for the plants to feed from, the only growth was lichens and shrubs,   
hardly fit to be eaten or even exist, a meager place. It was never questioned why Cid was buried in the remotest   
part of Trabia, nor did anyone think twice of it, he was an odd man, but still a great man, and though simple, his   
grave somehow fit him. A simple block place over a tomb hewn of the rocks which were the only ground, a simple   
message "Only History will provide for this great man an adequate reward", and the simple land in which it was built  
.   
Squall came here often, not for the beauty of it, nor for the reminder of Cid, but for the quiet, the peace  
which was the true embodiement of the land. In a land so untouched no sound but his own feet could rent the pure   
silence. The freshest air, the brightest sun, the sheerest cliffs could only ever add to that expansive silence, it  
was an omnipotent, humbling experience for Squall, one he found quietly enjoyable.   
  
He crept slowly through the brush, and padded softly across the exposed rock, experiencing the landscape   
with all his senses, watching, feeling the world he lived in, and as he came to the edge of the grantie wall on   
which he stood, he pondered the frailty of life. He thought of a poor life cut in its prime by a feeling so easy to  
beat, but only when you are conscious of feeling it.He mulled over the punishment for a murderer who may not be an   
immoral person. Had the same not been so when he had ought Seifer so many times? I have to do my best or I won't   
see sis again, what did Sorrow have to prove? Seifer was always looking for attention,was Sorrow like that? He   
always helped out, put in extra time, he was strong with a gunblade, the Bear was a fearsome fighter, but a gentle   
man, what had really happened? Death, a life for a life? Is a person capable of change? Is death the answer? How   
much can someone really just write off? Is killing in self defense any better than murder itself? what if this had   
been in a time of war, would it have been so bad if they had been enemies across a field?   
  
Again Squall touched the scar across his forehead, and felt how an inch deeper and Seifer would be the Bear,  
or not? would he be Sorrow? WOuld he be either? This situation, so similar, but so different. Why did a seventeen   
year old have to have the blood of a comrade on his hands? why?why?how?who? He brushed his hair out of his eyes,   
and sat to stare at the sunset. How long have I been here? He lay back closed his eyes and opened his mind to the   
flood of questions that poured through his mind. So many questions, no answers, maybe that was life? asking   
questions, and looking for answers that are not really there, there are no really answers, are there? only   
perspectives, nothing in this whole fucking planet is tangibly true and answered. The answers on which we base our   
lives are nothing but perspectives that we see differently every time we look in a mirror, after we finish the drink  
, after we do our good turn. Perspective is what I need, Squall final figures, and Ill never find it. All I can do   
is hope. 


	4. Destruction

Chapter 4:Destruction  
  
Life had escaped the Bear, everything was leaving him, everyone. The Garden staff had moved his possesions into temporary storage, his now ex-girlfriend had paid him a visit, even the one man who the bear had thought would believe him, Instructor Dincht, had almost scoffed at his story. He was being ostracized from everything he ever held dear, he was being rent away from his family, the only ones who ever cared. It was Sorrow's fault. Sorrow who took his hand, Sorrow who stole his innocence and raped his life, it was Sorrow that filled his heart.  
  
"Sorrow. Why couldn't you like me? Why couldn't we be friends? why couldn't you just fucking like me!Why did you fucking hate me you fucking...were you jealous? What did I do wrong? I see your face when I sleep. Your bloody broken face. Behind my eyes lies your eyeless evil stare. Did I have to kill you? What is inside of me? Why can I not control myself? What will happen to me? I am too scared to close my eyes. I see no end to the problems that I face, no answers are out there for me. Why the fuck does life exist in shades of gray? I am guilty, but of what crime? Questions. No more questions. Somebody please be with me. somebody please be here for me. I killed a friend, no not a friend, an enemy. He hurt me, and is still hurting me."  
  
Emotions roiled in his belly and ate at his heart, things he never knew could be felt. the bear saw them all, and reflected them all. A beautiful depression, a darkened joy, constant pain with a sense of indignation. Hate, in a form so pure, it could be mistaken for love.   
  
Sitting up in his cell, the Bear felt again his rage come to him. His consciousness slowly slipped his body's grasp, and he lost all control. he tore at the metal walls. he lashed out and ripped the frame of his bed apart and smashed through the small window on the door. He slammed his head into the wall and felt the tranquil trickle of blood as it rolled down his battered face. He could feel the strenght to destroy the world shudder forth the the blows he landed on the walls, all around him there were dents forming. Blood let into his eyes and obscured his vision, pain became him. He loved it. Peace had betrayed him, he knew only war. It was his solution. and bloody mind harbours no guilt. Distantly he heard the guards coming. A smile crept across his lips as he turned to face the onslaught. He cracked a piece of metal out of his bedframe and snapped it to form a point. the footsteps were closer. Anger, power, he prayed, remain inside of me. The guards stormed through the door, already with spells cast and aimed and weapons drawn and ready. He felt himself slowing down, and gradually stopping, he also became aware of a vast fatigue rolling over him, calming him, enticing him to sleep. he let the feeling sink in a bit, and he smiled. At least they cared enough not to kill me. He slowly dropped to his knees, savouring the sleep as it washed over him.   
  
The guards looked at The sleeping Bear, not knowing what to do. The Leader barked out some orders and someone left for Dr. Kadowaki, and one to contact Squall. The others just stood at the ready.  
  
"Holy shit. That man is nuts. Nuts and fucking strong, I hate this job."  
  



	5. A Little Hapiness

Chapter 5: A little Happiness  
  
It had been three weeks now, the bear was in almost total isolation, locked onto his bed, and there wer more guards now sitting outside his door. Nobody could talk to him, nobody would anyway, it was evil, pure fucking evil. He still felt the hate, and it was hotter, and growing by the day. he needed to get away from the Garden. He needed to get out before he broke down completely. But the world outside was as scary as the room that trapped him now. He didn't know how to talk to new people, he didn't have any relatives to put him up, and he had no money, the school would probably destroy his records, there was totally nothing, nowhere to go but down. Maybe he could run to Galbadia, join the army there, or maybe timber?  
  
"Id be a great mountain hermit. How about Trabia?" he mused to himself, not caring that he talked to himself."That would be nice.  
  
The Bear hated his life right now, but it was a trial tommorow, and his future the day after. He had been informed earlier that the most he would probably recieve for his sentence would be banishment, and he could accept that, he didn't really want to live at the Garden any more, hey, there was nobody here that would want to see him around anymore either. A month ago, his plan was so entirely interwoven witht th garden, but now, it was a new story, s clean slate. it was the only entertain he had, thinking about what he could do now. He relaxed a bit, no longer straining against the leather straps that held him onto the bed, it wasn't uncomfortable, really, and he did get to stand for 20 minutes a day, under very careful supervivsion. Yesterday, that Instructor Quistis had detailed her self to the guard unit, and they had a bit of a conversation. She seemed really nice, and hot to boot. The Bear focused his mind on the positives, and he began to see a little better in the dim artificial light that filtered through the small barred glass window. He thought of Galbadia. His home-to-be, he had heard bout it when Sorceress Heartilly had come in and helped her Husband teach a society class. The last he heard was that the sorceress was pregnant again,thats her third, and bearing Squall another son. They were quite the couple, Squall, Headmaster of Balamb Garden, recently made chief master of the three Gardens and Rinoa the recently elected President of Galbadia. Would he be that successful?   
  
maybe he could make officer, command a garrison somehwere, help somebody out. He would be a good commander, he would know the troops first names, and know thier wives and girlfreinds names. He would be there for them, while still maintaining good discipline, he would have the finest unit. they would a have a banner full of honours, and he himself wuold have a heavy plate of medals to show off. Shining boots, and polished guns, the pride of the military. Of course there wold be fighting, but he was born to fight, born to destroy. He knew that.   
  
But he wanted to create. The Bear wanted to create life, happiness, greatness. He wanted a house and a family and a place in the world. Apparently his place wasn't here, but that was okay, there was room in the world for himk, he would have to work for it , but he was big enought to take on any challenge. He knew he could do it.  
  
"My life is what I make it, and if anything or anyone is holding me back, fuck them. Ill succeed as I know that I am capable of doing. I will survive this and move on.It will work out" It will all work out...I will have my life...a life of my own...I will have things to call mine...a place...home... 


	6. Life will never stop

Chapter 6: Life will never stop  
  
He walked slowly towards the arched gate. There were 4 men on either side of him, and Squall was walking solemnly in front. On the grounds the entire student body of Garden was watching lined up in neat rows, everyone in their dress uniforms, prim, trim and buttoned up. A little farther into the distance The bear could see a crowd of Balambians, a gawking mass when next to the stiff Students. It was hundereds of miles to those hated gates. He could see the car waiting to take him to the dock, to the ship preparing to transport to his port of choice. The ship waiting to get rid of him. He was becoming hot under the hideous burning stares of his peers. He saw faces of friends, people he would never see again, his family, who he'll never be able to say goodbye to. He saw the last few years of his life behind him as he alked into the slight summery breeze. THere were no clouds, a fne day by any account. Birds were singing, flowers were blooming, a whole world ignorant to his plight, a whole world that doesn't care, and thats where he was headed. THe Bear also realised that The garden wasn't so special, it would leave hardly a trace in a thousand years. humanity would be gone in a hundred thousand. People are so self important.They think they are the world, look at where they aren't, I'm better than them now, self righteous fucks. I'll show them the true meaning of leaving an impression on the world. Stories of my exploits will last as long as civilisation haunts the planet. I will be better...  
  
  
  
**********************************************   
  
Another night under the trabian skies, another night staring at the same set of stars. He knew them all. People always think there are too many to count. Pvt. Bear knew better, he knew they never had a number, they wer just there, and he knew them, knew the look of them. They were his freinds, his family, the stars never left him, only briefly when it rained, and that never lasted more than a few days anyway, but the spring was setting in. Mud. A soldiers worst nightmare. Well, maybe the shumi outcasts were a soldiers worst nightmare, but mud was up there. Ice was pretty bad too, but it had started to thaw.so the list was growing shorter. Maybe losing a freind was bad too, but thats just war eh? He flipped down the eypiece on his helmet and started scanning the distance, looking out for one of the massive metal pods that house the misshapen shumi. President Heartilly shouldn't involve us in her little power struggles with Garden Master Squall. Fuck off for a while eh? Break time, not really, but who's watching. He reached into his pack and took out a small bottle.  
  
  
**********************************************  
  
More rain. Centra is the worst. Half the fucking continent is a desert, and he wound up on the only fucking patch of grass, and it just fucking happens to rain way too fucking much. Sgt. Bear told his squad to drop their gear and pitch the camp. No sense in getting wetter and muddier. After the shumi campaign, he was promoted, decorated, and transferred, when the centra crisis started, he was just the man, just like another two thousand of his fellow G-army soldiers, to land with teh first wave and get torn to shit by hideous unimaginable monsters. Fifty percent gone in the first four days. They had to learn fucking quick to live, they practically evolved in the first few months. Some experienced, many green troops, clean shaven and ready to take on the world. Now wary hunters, eyes glowing, slavering for blood; scarred, tightly wound men, ready to kill in an instance. Bear helped set up the machine guns and set the guards, then settled dow to get a bit of sleep. But first maybe a bit of drink, to help him sleep.  
  
**********************************************  
  
Deling city was a sight to see at night, bright lights everywhere, stretching on for miles, the huge monument in the center of the park. The park was a wonderful place. Lt. Bear visited often, when it was safe, of course. With the Timber rebels incite riots and setting off bombs in the city, it was hardly a day when Bear wasn't commanding his unit for police action. It had been nearly two weeks since President Heartilly had declared martial law. He had seen her the other day, far off, behind the blockade in front of her residence. He had been on street patrol at the time, it was a nice day too.   
  
"Id better get another medal for this" The bear mused to himself, "A nice shiny, worthless medal."  
  
Rumors were abound of military action against Timber, but the president had been a member of a resistance faction, and everyone figured that it woud never happen, never. Maybe the hotel was in the perimeter tonight, he could stop by for a drink or something. He deserved a good drink. Maybe two, its been a hard night.   
  
  



	7. Another Lost Sheep

Chapter 7: Another Lost Sheep  
  
"No father I'm not staying any longer!" The rebellious youth hollered at his Dad." I'm gone, I'll write when I know where I'm going!"  
  
With that the youth brushed back his silver hair and strode off angrily, just as he knew his mother would. God, acting like his mother. He just needed to prove himself. To be what he could be, and he knew he could achieve, but not here, in the shadow of his father. No, he may never be that great but he could become more than he was. So what if he scored the lowest on the SeeD exam? Ever. Well except for that Seifer guy, but no matter, he needed to be somewhere where nobody knew who he was, where nobody knew he was belonged to the most powerful family in the world. He needed those drips to fuck off!! Geez.  
  
He shouldered his duffel bag and headed off. His Father might not be able to get to balamb before him, and mayeb he would just let him go, did he actually understand? Never could fucking tell. People said that to him too "Squall, you are the hardest person to understand." WHy did Mom have to name me after him, fuck fuck fuck. WHy couldn't he be his own person. His sister didn't have that problem, she was way to much like mother, in every way, at least his baby brother didn't stop, not like he knew how to talk anyway. No use dweeling on the past it was time to meet his future. Maybe he would go to Galbadia, his parents wouldn't bother looking for him there, then maybe get into a Foreign Battalion. see the damn world for himself, not with mommy and daddy holding his hand, life can come together for he who puts his will towards it.  
  
  
***************************************  
  
The airship had been a bumpy ride, but worth it, Squall Leonhart the II stepped off the ramp, a green staff sargeant in the Galbadian Army, his boots were polished, his thought moving in straight ordered lines. He walked briskly across the dirt tarmac to the corrugated steel shelter that housed the 69th foreign regiments headquarters. The town was set up in the perfect fashion as described in the textbook, except it appear to have been assemble by a crowd of monkey. There was a thick layer of grime on everything, the buildings,the trucks, even the soldiers. The ground was nothing more that packed mud, adn the building nothing more than shaped metal. It was simple, run-down and aging. But not for Squall, it was the frontier. Trabia Garden was a hunder and fifty miles back towards civilisation. He stopped abruptly as a patrol went running by in a sloppy line, thier packs clanking and their mouths grumbling. He picked up the pace he learned at the training camp. Ninety steps per minute, every minute, no matter where you're headed. It was a brisk pace and took him staright to the HQ, which looked even more used up close than it did at a distance. The hinges were creaky as he pulled back the screen door, and it sounded liek the wall was about to collapse when it snapped shut again. He looked around the abysmal office which was inside. Paper was stacked in piles all over the place, everything was out of order. A rumpled looking ladie in an old uniform came out of the door and looked genuinely surprised to see him standing there.  
  
"Huh?, Who are you? I haven't seen you through here before." She spoke hurriedly.   
  
"St Sgt Squall Kinneas (So he fudged his name a bit, Irvine wouldn't mind) reporting here for imediate field duty, ma'am." He said smartly.  
  
"Ahhh, I heard about you. Here are your orders." She rifled through a seemingly random stack of papers, but eventual finding one that seemed to please her. She handed it too him, and walked out. He saluted her back, out of a reflex, then clicked his heels as he walked out, Reading the papers.  
  
"Staff Sargeant S. Kinneas, detailed to the 2nd platoon, D company, 69th Royal Foreign Regiment. TO be transported immediately and Report to Captain J. Bear."  
  
He heard the chopping of a helicopter as it came in to land, apparently carrying wounded soldiers. A small group of orderlies cam out of another building across the grounds and rushed to pull stretchers out and run them back. We weren't at war were we? Mother? Father? whats going to happen to me? 


	8. A New Home

Chapter 8:A New Home  
  
The chopper landed on the small bare patch of ground, seemingly identical to every other bare patch of land on the whole godforsaken continent. Squall stepped down, ducking under the spinning blades and quickly made his way out of its reach. He looked around at the swirling landscape, on one side, a vast primeval forest, on the other, a few miles out the forest broke out into a vast field of snow. The Trabian snowfields. He suveryed his immediate surroundings and realized he was alone. There was no base, and the helicopter was slowly taking off! he rushed over to it, but the pilot was ignoring him. The Fuck!! Squall thought, what is this?? He began to feel very alone. Was this some kind of prank, he asked himself? maybe there was a path somewhere, hope briefly flared within his mind. he walked around a bit, and with every step, a piece of optimism chipped off his resolve. Alone, abandoned by a crew pilot. He could feel the anger rising in him. His father had warned him about this feeling. It was hopelessness, mixed with strength. It fueled the horrendous Lionheart attacks with which his father had leveled more than one sorceress. Pure rage. alone. hopeless. He could feel it boil in him, something he never felt before. It was almost evil, the closest evil to good, undescribable power was filling him. All he needed was something to vent it on. He looked around, seeing deep into the woods on one side, and far across the plains on the other. So alone. It brought him further.   
  
A thick figure dove out of the trees at him. a wendigo? It bore its talons down onto Squall's front. It was all he needed, the power shook the wendigo off and threw it across the glade and into a tree. the trunk shattered underr the heavy impact. the wendigo made dazed noises, and stumbled to its feet, trying to remeber what it was doing. Squall didn't hesitate, he pulled his blade out of its sheathe on his pants and dove for the creature. He was surprised the damage he did with such a small blade, he had chopped the wendigo clear in half. Out of the corner of his eye, and on the far reaches of his hearing, he heard the clopping of many hooves and saw a large figure astride a gallant steed, riding off into oblivion. What was that power? that figure?  
  
  
"Holy shit man!! you fucking toasted that motherfucker like a fucking whore, man!!" an astounded comment sounded from behind  
  
Squall whipped around, bearing his gaze down on the noise. Anger flared in him, he was ready to kill. The figure leapt down from the tree quickly, landed on the ground. It was a galbadian soldier, dressed in fatigue pants and a green tank top. He had a rifle slung across his shoulder, and several knives were sheathed around his body. He was tanned a sinewy, and looked a very alert.  
  
"Hey, I'm scott, but everyone here calls me Steve, how do u do?" The freindly looking man offered his hand out to the still shaking Squall. But Squall wouldn't take it. How could this guy be so bold?  
  
"What the fuck is going on!!?" Squall screamed at him, gesticulating wildly.  
  
"Relax, they do it to everyone, the chopper pilots get bored, so they play little pranks on the infantry, they did it to me too, at least I found you quickly, they left me three miles out from base once, it took me a week to find it!"   
  
"Still, what if you hadn't found me?? I could have died!"   
  
"And the air corps would burn for it, fair enough, lets go, I think theres more out there. Ha, wendigos, who's letting out the moonstones this time?" Sure enough, off in the distance, the semi-audible howls of more creatures growing closer. "I hope your in good shape, it s a tough go from this angle back to the base."  
  
They took off quickly, and picked their way through the forest roughly towards the plains, though the tree coverage kept constant. Here and there the pair encountered a craggy hill to climb or a small brook to cross, but Scott, or steve, seem to find places where logs had fallen. They had been moving at a steady pace for a little over an hour when the broke out onto a worn path that trailed of into the woods, and beyond that, Squall could see the telltale man made clearing of an army base. The trail moved up hill for about twenty minutes, when they hit a machine gun nest, Scott waved to the bleary eyed crew, who slowly waved back. The next thing on the path was an opening and a small wooden sign that stated "2D,69", with an excited heart, Squall paced slowly out into the clearing and saw his new home.  
  



	9. A Dank Hole To call my Own

Chapter 9: A Dank Hole to CAll My Own  
  
There was a tendril of smoke snaking slowly out of some unseen hole on the side of the hill that housed the base, it snuck around the ground and made its way slowly to the closest watch tower. Once it finished its cross counry trek it finsihed off by sneaking up one of the rusting metal legs of the aged tower. A lone sentry stood guard in the tower, his hands resting on the large machine gun fixed onto the far side of the railing. A nearly finished cigarrette hung limp from his mouth, its smoke being blown from his face by some slight,unfelt breeze. Nothing seemed to be alive, or at least nothing seemed to be moving across the whole grounds but Squall and his excitable guide.   
  
"Is this the base?"Squall looked doubtfully at the blank trabian scene. just another clearing, except for he guard tower, but it was so old it looked as if it was left over from some ancient war, it was a simple part of the scene.  
  
"Fuck yeah!! its kinda dead right now, ther was a fucker of a big bash last night! Holy fucking shit man!Mother fucker!!" Steve exclaimed making vague arm motions, looking as if he would break a sweat at any minute."YOu shoulda fuckin been there man! I mean FUCK!!"He was practically screaming.  
  
Squall discovered why Zell had always grated on his father's nerves, good god, couldn't he shut up? The man was moving faster now, heading towards an unseen point on the far side of the hill. THe defenses were becoming more apparent to him now. He could see cut out parts of grass, probably where a soldier could jump out or fire from, and every now and then he could spot a cleverly hidden machine gun nest or a fox hole. The bases defense must have been made by a genius, nothing could escape the sight of a careful guard, when he talked to his father next he would have to tell him the setup, They never learned this kind of base management in school, if he ever talked to his father again. Squall wondered if everyone was mad at him, or laughing at him for running off.   
  
"Sir!"A serious voice broke him out of his reverie, there was another man standing there, an almost tall man, with short hair and long side burns. His eyes were puffy and red and he looked like he hadn't slept in weeks "Are you the new Sargeant? I'm Lt. Noah Magaco, don't laugh that's my real name. I'm second in command here. The captain sent me out here to show you your quarters. I would, but I've got a hangover bigger than your mother, so just walk over there, there should be a door with 4th squad written on it, you're in there and those are your men. But, they're on watch right now. So get your shit stowed and head out." He said with a groggy air of finality, then turned and shut the metal door that they had apparently arrived at with such gusto that small amounts of dirt shook loose and littered across the ground.   
  
Scott showed him over to the 4th Squad bunk house, and then jogged off to find some food or something. Squall found the empty sargeant's bunk at the front of the house, and tossed his pack onto it. THe room was long, and musty, everything was covered in dust, not too bad for being a buried shelter, but still dusty, there wer a series of bare lightbulbs screwed into fixtures on the cieling, they caset an orange glow along the length of the room. there were only 5 sets of beds built into the wall, with a small section of the wall devoted to a large closet, whose doors hung ajar revealing a full wall of bottles, intermixed with boxes of shells and the odd pistol or knife just to remind the people they're were in the army. Somebody had scribbled "There'll be no going home again" onto the wall in marker. A cheery place, indeed. The floor was clear, except for the odd bottle, and a few spent rounds, and a rifle. a Soldiers home indeed, Squall thought to himself. He looked over his niched. this was his place of command. He had found his world in a four walled box with some beds and some booze in it. This is where he was going to show everybody that he didn't need to be the son of Squall Leonhart in order to succeed. He straightened his Jacket, arranged his helmet, and headed outside to survey the land. 


End file.
